


Hide Your Face

by flyingfishflops



Category: jacksepticeye
Genre: Anger, Body Horror, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jackie i love you but you'd better apologise for that, Panic Attacks, Scars, Self-Hatred, The Phantom of the Opera - Freeform, Theater - Freeform, insensitive jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 14:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15415194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingfishflops/pseuds/flyingfishflops
Summary: When Jameson suggests a trip to the theater, the egos jump at the opportunity. however, when the show turns out to be The Phantom of the Opera, Marvin isn't quite sure what to think.The villain seems very familiar.





	Hide Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't actually seen PotO for like 2 years, so i had to look up some bits, so some stuff might not be accurate to the musical. (Like google said the Phantom's name is Erik which sounds about right but i cant remember if its ever actually mentioned in the play. if not, then tough. it is in this story)
> 
> This story is of course based on the scared!Marvin head cannon, which is one that I like a lot.

It had been Jameson’s idea, of course. A way for them all to have a nice evening and relax for once. The others had agreed immediately; a trip to the theater was exactly, as he’d put it while winking at Schneeplestien, ‘Just what the doctor ordered.’ The German doctor had rolled his eyes at that and left, muttering something about booking tickets. The exact show was the joint idea of Jackie and Jameson, and so the tickets were booked.

* * *

 

That was how Marvin had found himself up high in the theater, feeling more and more uneasy as the show went on. It wasn’t the theater itself- he always felt most alive in buildings such as this, though normally he would be on stage himself- nor was it the height. It was the show itself. They were watching a musical, just as Jameson had wanted, which wasn’t the problem itself. It was just Marvin wished he’d had the foresight to look up a synopsis first. As it turned out, The Phantom of The Opera was not a show he liked.

 

He’d gone in almost blind, excited for the evening ahead. The music had been thrilling, and Marvin could certainly appreciate the dramatics of it, particularly in the overture. Jameson in particular was enthralled by the whole thing, it clearly being completely unlike anything he’d ever heard before. Even Schneeplestien was enjoying himself, looking the happiest he had since his return, the story helping him forget his worries for just one night.

 

But still, as the story progressed, an odd, uncomfortable feeling began in Marvin’s stomach as the masked villain was introduced. As the act dragged on, the feeling grew worse until the first half came to a head as he watched the heroine, Cristine, stand center stage, singing her desire to see under the mask before ripping it off the villain to reveal a horrifically deformed face. Around him, his friends gasped in shock at the stage make up, captivated by the story. Marvin felt sick and violated. Unconsciously, his hand flew to his own mask, ensuring it was still there. For the last few minutes of the act, he felt too dizzy to even pay the slightest bit of attention to the show.

 

Once the interval finally rolled around, Marvin excused himself, making a beeline for the bathroom to take a moment to collect himself. He stood in front of the mirror for a few minutes, focusing on his breathing. When he finally felt calm enough, he returned to the others, finding them enthusiastically discussing the musical over drinks.

“ _ My goodness! _ ” Jameson was signing. “ _ We certainly didn’t have musicals like this when I’m from! _ ” Chase laughed, smiling wider than he had for months.

“You know, Jay? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a musicals dude. How long were you planning on keeping this a secret?” he teased, nudging the gentleman slightly. A broad smile spread across Jameson’s face as he winked at his friend.

“ _ I am rather partial to the moving pictures, yes, but nothing beats the spectacle of watching something in person! _ ” He leant in slightly, hand movement’s becoming more discreet, grin becoming more shit-eating. “ _ I’d appreciate you not spreading that around though. I do have a reputation to uphold! _ ” Despite himself, Marvin found himself chuckling at their antics, feeling a small bit better as he settled back into his seat. 

The second act passed slowly, though the magician tried to enjoy the songs rather than focusing on the story, to little avail. By the time it was finally over he was very much ready to head home and forget all about the damn show. He stayed behind the others as they walked back, staring down at the fancy shoes he’d chosen to wear out for the night, trying to ignore the others.

“I will admit, that was much more fun than I had expected. It was very good show.”   
“You know it! James and I picked a good one huh?”

“Dude, it was awesome! I’m not even into all this musical shit, and I thought it was pretty sick! I fucking loved that bit when-”   
Somehow, he managed to force himself to stop listening, counting the steps they took away from the theater instead.

* * *

 

Until they eventually reached home, this worked fine. Feeling ready to hide in his room and attempt to sleep, Marvin sighed in relief as soon as he stepped through the front door. In front of him, Jackie stopped suddenly, and Marvin walked head on into him.

“Jackie, the fuck-”

“Oh my god, guys, guys!” the hero laughed “Us, in Phantom of the Opera!” Marvin felt his heart sink, but did his best to sound nonchalant, as he barged past.

“Sounds dumb” he grumbled. Jackie caught his arm, still grinning at his stupid idea.

“Like think about it! It’d be like, the Phantom of the Magic show or something; Marv, you’d be the Phantom, JJ would be Christine and I’d be Raoul! It works so well!” he winked at Jameson. “Isn’t that right babe?”

“ _ Well I  _ am  _ rather well known for my prowess in singing. _ ” he quipped back, grinning mischievously. The hero dissolved into laughter, loud and obnoxious to Marvin’s ears. Soon, Chase joined him, and even Schneeps cracked a smile. Marvin’s face, however, stayed blank under his mask. It felt like it was tightening around his head, pressing so hard against his cheeks and nose it felt like something would crack. Maybe it would tighten so much that his skull would be crushed, or maybe the mask would break first, falling off and revealing his face to the world. 

 

He didn’t really know which would be worse.

 

Yanking his arm back, he stumbled away from the others.

“Hey!” Jackie called out, as he broke into a sprint towards the bathroom. “Hey Erik! Where ya going?!” feet beating on the floor almost as hard as his heart in his chest, he burst into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him.

 

Now he was staring into the mirror, eyes wide and shadowed by the constricting shield of a mask that squeezed his face so tight. He hated that mask; he hated it with a burning passion. He hated the sharpied on features, the cat nose and whiskers, and the card suites on the forehead, the designs he’d added to make it seem less blank, less empty. He hated it so, so much. Though for all he despised the mask, he didn’t hate it nearly as much as what was benief it. After all, his white mask wasn’t his only similarity to the Phantom. A twisted urge surged through his body. Letting out a wail of disgust and anger, Marin ripped off his mask, clawing it off of his face like some sort of parasite. He ignored the short stabs of pain as the elastic snapped, and hurled it across the room. It smacked against the wall with a thud and skidded across the tiled floor. Breathing heavily like a rabid animal, he turned back to the mirror, and raised a hand to his naked face.

 

It was hideous. Far worse than anything stage makeup could ever convey. A mess of scars and ridges from ill-healed wounds and curses tangled across it- many, relics of tricks gone wrong that had nearly killed him. Or maybe his face had always been like this. He couldn’t remember sometimes. His stomach turned as he retraced the carnage with his eyes, the horror that he knew so well, that made him so similar to the monster in that show. What was it the Phantom had called his own face? His carcass? He recalled bitterly. Oh yes, that fit well. A mangled, dead mockery of a person. 

 

Hideous, hideous, hideous.

 

He growled angrily at the mirror, and began chanting desperately- a spell he’d tried time and time again until he could recite it in his sleep. He finished abruptly, staring wildly at his reflection which stubbornly stayed the same. Just as grotesque as ever. Clutching his face in his hands, Marvin shook. He screamed, frustration and self-loathing exploding out of his aura with such force that the mirror shattered with a forceful crack.

 

Instinctively he threw up a shield, stopping the worst of the glass and letting it fall harmlessly to the floor. He stood for a moment, breathing heavily and staring at the mess he’d made in shock. He blinked up at himself from a thousand tiny shards on the floor. He’d never lost his cool like that before. Not like that. He became aware of a furious pounding at the door.

 

“Marvin!” Chase yelled through the wood. “What the fuck’s going on? Are you okay in there dude?!”

“Piss off!”   
“Dude! Seriously, what’s up? Let us in, we want to help!” Marvin growled, the pins and needles of magic pricking across his skin.

“Just fuck off already Chase! Leave me alone,‘cause you can’t fucking help!” the sparks stung like a swarm of agitated bees, buzzing around his head until he could hardly hear anything else above the din. “Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone!” he screamed, unsure who or what he even meant. Tears crossed the ugly tangle of scars, slicing through them like a knife. He gasped for breath, but suddenly there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. “Go away go away!”

 

There was hushed discussion outside the door, until Chase’s voice came again. 

“Okay Magic-Man, take some deep breaths for me. Let’s try calm down now dude. Now, are you gonna open the door or is Jackie gonna have to break it down or something? Cause I’m sorry bro but we can’t leave you in there alone.” Marvin dove for his mask, snatching it from the floor and smashing it against his face. There was a large crack in it from when it hit the wall, and the elastic was broken. Keeping a hold of it, he began taking deep breaths to calm himself down again, forcing oxygen in and out of his lungs. he waved a hand towards the door, letting it unlock and swing open.

 

The others shuffled back from the door slightly, to give Marvin more space to get out. Keeping his eyes on the floor to avoid their questioning looks, he brushed past them, mumbling something about going to bed, ignoring their demands for him to explain himself.

* * *

 

Marvin lay, staring up at his ceiling in the dark, feeling the last of the adrenalin slip away. A numbness filled him, emotional exhaustion muting everything. He shifted, trying to reach a more comfortable position. An hour shuffled past and he shifted again, huffing irritably. 1 AM, 2 AM. The hours crawled past agonisingly slowly, cruel whispers chasing around the magician’s mind as his insomnia shackled him to the waking world. 

_ Carcas _ they taunted.  _ Monster, hideous. You’re mask is cracking and they’ll all see what a freak you are! They’ll be horrified and they’ll see how right Jackie was. Well, they already know you’re fucked up; just look at that performance earlier! Once they see your face, there’ll just be no denying it. Monster. Carcas. Freak. Hideous. _

 

After what felt like a million years, sunlight began to creep through the blinds. Marvin watched it crawl across the walls and brighten the room until he was interrupted by the harsh buzzing of his alarm clock. Reluctantly, he shut it off and dragged himself up. He needed some fucking coffee.

Replacing the broken mask with a spare, Marvin pulled on some fresh clothes. Sighing, he left the safety of his bedroom and headed to the kitchen. 

 

The others were sat around, chatting over their morning coffees when Marvin walked in. As they noticed him, the conversation stopped, leaving a thick fog of awkwardness in the air. Chase coughed slightly, and tried to grin, though it came out a sort of grimince.

“Uh, Marv! Hey! You good bro?” The magician gave him an equally poor smile.

“Yep. yeah, i’m good. Just, you know. Getting some coffee. You?” He waved a hand, and the coffee in the pot lept into an empty mug on the side. It floated over lazily into the magician’s waiting hand. He took a long sip as Chase watched enviously.

“Man, it is so unfair you can do that” he muttered. “So, anyway. Uh, about last night-” Marvin’s jaw set slightly.

“It was nothing.” he lied. “I was just tired and needed the bathroom.”

“The mirror exploded.” Scheeplestien pointed out.

“It was an explosive shit?”   
“Bullshit.”

“Catshit, actually.” Chase groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Ugh, dude, come on. You literally screamed and then you had some sort of meltdown. That was  _ not _ an explosive shit. You need to tell us what's up, magic-man. You can talk to us you know.” Marvin snorted in disdain. 

“That's pretty fucking rich coming from you, Chase. ‘Cause you talk to us all the goddamn time don't you? You tell us what’s fucking going on when you’re drunk off your ass at three in the fucking morning right?” Chase looked stunned, blinking like Marvin had just punched him square in the jaw. He opened his mouth to say something, but Schneeplestien was quicker.

“Now that’s not fair Marvin.That is a completely different thing, a thing for a different time. Chase was only trying to help.”

“I don’t need help because nothing happened.I was tired and there’s nothing to talk about.” He drained his coffee, not caring that it was still slightly hot, and slammed it down.

“Marvin-”

“No.” he yelled, eyes flashing behind his mask. “I’m done. It was nothing.” turning away, he marched out of the room, ignoring the glass that shattered in his wake.

* * *

 

For the rest of the day, the others avoided him, making excuses to leave any room he walked into. He said nothing, telling himself it was what he wanted and what he deserved. They should back off, and they should avoid him. No matter how much he repeated this though, he couldn’t shake the feeling of shame and hurt each time it happened. 

* * *

 

Hours later, Marvin sat in his own room, practicing tricks that shouldn’t be that hard, yet grew increasingly more frustrating. After a particularly unsuccessful trick, he flung his deck of cards to the floor in an impromptu game of 52 pick-up. A neat, gentle knock came at the door. 

“No.” he snapped. “Go away.” flopping down onto his bed, he stared at the ceiling until another knock sounded a moment later. “Fuck off!” There was stillness, for long enough that it seemed the visitor was gone. Just as he began to sigh in relief- or perhaps disappointment- a more forceful knocking began.

 

Marvin groaned. It was clear that whoever it was behind the door was not going to leave him alone. Pulling himself off of his bed, he stomped over to the door, flinging it open.

“What.” He glared. 

 

Jameson took a small step back, raising his hands in a display of peace.    
“ _ I just wanted to see how you were doing old chap. _ ” he signed, more than a little nervously. “ _ You’ve been in such a tizzy all day, make no mistake! _ ”

“I’m fine.” Marvin closed the door, but a polished shoe stuck in the crack, keeping it open. “Jamie,” he protested. “What are you-”

“ _ You, good sir, are a liar! _ ” proclaimed Jameson with a flourish. His expression softened slightly, mustache twitching with concern. “ _ Please, tell me the truth. allow me to help. _ ” he took off his hat, and started fiddling with it at his chest; a respectful gesture fused with a nervous tic into something so utterly  _ Jameson _ . The door was opened with a sigh. 

“Well it seems like you’re not gonna fucking leave me alone, so you might as well come in.”

 

With a slight beckon, Marvin turned and receded deeper into his room again. Centered on the far wall, a double bed sulked; bed sheets crumpled and beaten, hanging half onto the floor.  Opposite, a chest of draws, gutted in the magicians’ search for a new mask. Cards and props lay scattered about the floor, amongst clothes and spell books. It was a far cry from his usual tidy room. Jameson took it all in silently, raising his eyebrow a fraction when Marvin finally looked back at him.

“ _ If this is your version of fine, my friend, then the definition of ‘not okay’ must have changed without my knowing _ .” he noted. “ _ Now, what on earth is going on with you? _ ” Marvin said nothing, unwilling and unsure of how to proceed. Huffing, Jameson shook his head. “ _ Honestly. Well then, as you, Marvin, are insisting on being as stubborn as a mule, it would seem that I must figure it out myself, if you don’t have any objection to that? No? Right then. _ ”

 

He peered about the room, contemplating where to begin before his eyes landed on the discarded mask. 

“ _ Ah-ha! _ ” he signed triumphantly. “ _ Yes, this is a good place to start. _ ” As he considered it for a moment- picking it up and turning it over with a look of thoughtfulness- Marvin began to feel nervous. Letting him in was beginning to feel like a very bad move. “ _ This mask. It broke last night in the bathroom, am I correct? Yet rather than leave it there, or carry it back, you held it against your face, and then replaced it with a spare. Why? _ ” he mused.

“Stop.” Jameson plowed on regardless, like he hadn’t even heard him.

“ _ And then there’s the timing of the- _ ” there was a split second of hesitation as he picked his phrasing. “ _ -Incident. It was after Mr. Jackie made a jest about the musical, comparing you to the villain, who also, of course, wore a white mask. _ ”

“Jamie, stop.”

“ _ Not forgetting the mirror, which- _ ”   
“Jameson, please! That's enough. Stop.” Marvin begged. “Please stop.” Jameson froze, hands mid sign. He blinked.

“ _ Marvin? _ ” 

 

Trying to steady his breathing and racing heart, Marvin rubbed at his eyes, suddenly feeling very, very weary.

“Look.” he said. “You’re gonna guess it soon aren't you? If you haven’t already figured it out that is. I-” He looked away for a moment. “I’d rather you didn’t. But I also know you’re not gonna leave unless you get answers either, right?” he chuckled without humor. Jameson looked extremely concerned now.

“ _ No, I- I can go if you want me to. The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable! _ ”

“I- No, no, stay.” Marvin heard himself say. “I suppose I need to tell you at some point anyway.” he bit his lip, unwilling to continue.

“ _ What is it? _ ”

“It’s, well. It’s-” his voice shook, as did his hands twice as hard, as he reached up to his mask. “It’s pretty disgusting.”

 

His fingers hooked round the mask and he stopped, unable to undress in such a way in front of another. Surely Jameson would run, terrified, to tell the others of the monster among them. The thought scared him, petrified him in a way that few others could. It wasn’t a risk he wanted to take, it wasn’t a risk he felt he  _ could _ take. 

 

But still.

 

A part of him wanted to be free of the secret, to be able to discard the mask, for the constant fear of being found out to be gone. A part of him longed for the constant  _ what if? _ s to be over. A part of him wanted to trust Jameson. He took a deep breath and in one swift movement, removed the mask, sqeezing his eyes tight as every instinct yelled ‘mistake!’ definingly loud.

 

The mask fell to the floor, landing with a thump he could barely hear over the beating of his heart. He heard too quick steps backwards, and his stomach sank. Of course. What was he thinking? Cautiously, he opened his eyes, scared to see the look of horror on his friend’s face, palms sweaty with nerves. Jameson’s hands were clasped over his mouth and his eyes were wide with shock.

 

“Told you it was bad, huh?” he mumbled. The youngest ego shook his head slightly to collect himself, before asking;

“ _ What happened? _ ” Marvin shrugged.

“Fucked up spells mostly. Explosions, curses, that kinda shit.” he sat down on the end of his bed, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Definatly some curses in there. No matter what I do, I can’t get rid of this, this-” wildly, he gestured at his face. “Freak show.”

“ _ Goodness, Marvin, I- I’m so sorry. I never knew, I never would’ve even guessed you- _ ” Marvin waved him off.   
“You would’ve, you were just about to, remember? But yeah, no, you wouldn't have known. No one else knows. And I don’t want them to either. They’ve got enough to deal with without knowing that they’re living with a monster.” A self decrepitating smile slid across his face. “They probably think i’m dangerous enough as it is after last night, don’t need this horror show scaring them too.”   
  


Jameson frowned, biting his lip.

“ _ Monster? _ ” he repeated. “ _ Why ever would you think yourself a monster? _ ” The magician snorted.

“Uh, hello? Have you even been paying attention Jameson? Because of my fucked-up, deformed face! It’s bad enough I throw a magical temper tantrum whenever I get angry! Everyone knows that something like that, and something like  _ this _ makes me a monster!” His voice rose and he clenched the bit of shirt in his fists. Magic pricked along his skin in ripples, making his hairs stand on end. Jameson cringed back slightly, fear clear on his face. Seeing his friend’s expression, Marvin willed the magic to vanish, putting his hands up reassuringly.

 

“Shit, Jamie, I’m sorry.” he clamored. “I didn’t mean- urgh.” burying his face in his hands, he did his best not to cry. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled. “I’ve got no right to yell at you about this. It’s not your fault.” A hand on his shoulder made him look up as Jameson sat down next to him, a serious look on his face.

“ _ Now you look here, friend. _ ” he signed. “ _ Don’t you dare call yourself a monster because it is most certainly not true! A fellow’s appearance does not define them; your face does not make you a monster! _ ”

“But what about in the play? The phantom was a villain because of his fucked up face.”

“ _ The phantom was a villain because of his actions. _ ” Jameson countered. “ _ Not his appearance. _ ”

“But-” 

“ _ No. You’re a good person Marv my friend. And those scars don’t change that a bit! _ ” 

“All the monsters we know look like monsters. Why would I be any different?”

 

Marvin thought of the resident monsters, Anti and Dark, and how no one could possibly mistake them for what they were, with their strange, other worldly auras, blacked out eyes and in Anti’s case, his mutilation. 

 

“ _What about that Warfstash fellow?_ ” came the argument “ _He doesn’t look monstrous now does he? Yet he’s the most dangerous of them all!_ ” the younger ego’s face softened slightly. “ _Look,_ ” he continued. “ _The point I’m doing my damndest to make, and you, for some incomprehensible reason are doing your best to ignore, is that how you look does not define you! It doesn’t make you good or bad, or whatever other terms you could possibly want to use. The other’s wouldn’t think any less of you if you chose to show them._ ” Sighing wearily, Marvin leant against his friend.

“Maybe.” he conceded, closing his eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”

 

They sat, in close silence, simply thinking in the company of the other. Later, Marvin would emerge from his room, maskless for the first time ever. Later, the others would gape and gasp in shock and concern. Later, he would explain everything. Later they would apologise and offer their support. Later, it would all work out okay. Later, there would be other challenges.

 

But for now, he would sit there with his closest friend, and begin to truly wonder if the play could be wrong.

 

**Author's Note:**

> jameson totaly had a crush on wilford when he first saw him he was like man look at that mustache, (or whatever the 1920's equivilent is) but then he turned out to be a psychopathic asshole and he'd never felt so betrayed thats why he hates him so much.


End file.
